


One Was the Flower; the Other Was the Rain

by YIMA



Series: Steady and Petunia [6]
Category: HILLARY CLINTON - Fandom, Nancy Pelosi - Fandom, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Angst, F/F, Love Between Women, secret romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 21:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20607482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YIMA/pseuds/YIMA
Summary: It was almost ruined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Among the Redwoods](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318215) by [YIMA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YIMA/pseuds/YIMA). 

_February 2017_

The question seemed benign a second before, but it was as cancerous as it could be.

“So did you?” Hillary asked, because she refused to believe Bill, her husband’s jealousy not worthy of trust.

Nancy remained silent as she sat at her desk, her lips pressed together, the phone to her ear. She wanted to explain, but she couldn’t find the words. What Bill had said was true, but not in the way he’d said it. “_Typical of him to manipulate history,”_ Nancy thought, wishing she would’ve destroyed him like she threatened to all those years before. “Steady…”

“Is it true?” Hillary repeated, fuming and melting into a puddle of her own emotion. She watched bits of herself drip to the floor and sit like mercury.

“Yes,” Nancy finally whispered, but she said it to _Hillary_, her wife of four years, her lover of twelve, and her soulmate, no doubt superseding this bump in the road. She didn’t realize it was a boulder, her power crashing into it and shattering like glass.

***

_“She fuckin’ challenged me for you, Hillary!”_ Bill had screamed, wanting to destroy their perfect world. _“February 1999, she came to the Oval and said she’d take you from me!”_

He sounded drunk, Hillary thought. Nancy would never.

_“That ring,” _he said, pointing to Hillary’s finger, _“she brought it with her. Who knew you’d play right into her hand?_”

***

“And the ring?” Hillary asked Nancy, her voice cracking.

“Darling…”

“Tell me the truth,” Hillary whimpered, angry, which she’d never been with Nancy before, but she was angry at Bill, and Nancy was reminding her of Bill, and the whole thing felt like a betrayal.

Nancy took a staggered breath, her pink pantsuit giving off a cheery illusion. She felt small and anxious. _“The ring you have, yes, I showed it to him first. But I had it changed, Steady. Fitted for you. Engraved. It was at the jeweler when I proposed at Westgate, and I couldn’t get in touch with Gino no matter how hard I tried.” _But it sounded like an excuse. She wished she were more eloquent. “I love you,” Nancy whispered. “I loved you then, and I love you now.”

Hillary wanted that to be true more than she wanted to breathe, but Bill’s rant threw everything into chaos. “Was I a game, Nancy?”

“_No_…”

“Were you trying to hurt me?”

“Of course not,” Nancy whispered, hands shaking, fingers stretching and unstretching because she had nothing to fold.

Hillary inhaled, tears streaming down her face. “What happened with you and Bill in ’99?” she asked, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down. She was falling apart—_they_ were falling apart—and she wished Nancy could build their world back up again.

“Steady,” Nancy said, forcing her aides from her office with the wave of a hand. “Please listen…”


	2. Chapter 2

_Love rested between the women, their physical distance being no barrier. Nancy needed help with narration, and Love took over her tongue._

_Winter 1999_

William Jefferson Clinton had been acquitted, his wife by his side as he took his victory lap. He was a man who couldn’t be kept down—a President unbroken—“the Comeback Kid.” Outwardly, he looked contrite, sullen, even a bit broken, but inside, he felt like Superman, another checkmark on the endless list of winning. He would’ve smiled more, but he didn’t want to lose the backing of the American people. His approval ratings were higher than they’d ever been, and he knew he could do anything with good numbers. Occasionally, he’d think about how the whole scandal had affected his wife—how her endless silence showcased her broken heart. She’d lost weight. She started wearing pants. She was on a mission to become Senator of New York and didn’t have time for his foolishness. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he surmised she was okay. Standing in the middle of the Oval, he looked at the seal on the floor, pleased that it was still his.

***

“He was cocky, Steady. Don’t you remember?”

Hillary remembered too well.

Nancy sat, trying to maintain her composure over the phone. “He needed to be set straight.”

***

“Mr. President?” Betty, his secretary said. “Representative Pelosi is here to see you.”

He okayed the meeting a week before, unsure of what she wanted. He owed her though. She fought hard against his impeachment, stating: “Whether one is violating a marital vow or some other aspect of his personal behavior, it is not an impeachable offense. You have not proven perjury.” He grinned as he watched her on the television and loosened his tie.

“Send her in,” he told Betty.

Nancy walked in, high heels muted by the carpet.

“Representative Pelosi,” Bill said, extending his hand.

“Mr. President,” she replied, taking it into her own.

They sat, saying nothing, Bill still unsure of why she was there but noticing that she looked contemplative.

“Representative…”

“Mr. President, I requested this meeting to speak with you personally. Will you indulge me?”

Bill nodded and leaned back, intrigued.

“First, I’d like to congratulate you on being acquitted. As I’ve stated on the House floor, I did not and do not believe that you should be impeached for offenses of a personal nature. I’m glad that the Senate agreed with my assessment.”

“Thank you, Representative Pelosi.”

She nodded, hands rested daintily on her lap. “Are you ever thankful, Mr. President?”

Bill furrowed his brow.

“You have the presidency, as you should, but are you thankful for what God has given you? Good health. The power of the world in your hands. Your daughter. Your beautiful wife.”

“Nancy, I’m not sure what—”

“You don’t deserve her,” Nancy said emphatically, staring into Bill’s eyes. “And you think that you do. If I could impeach you for sheer arrogance, I would do so in a heartbeat.”

Bill clenched his jaw.

“I came here to tell you that you’ll no longer have it so easy, Mr. President.” She reached into her purse, took out a diamond ring, and sat it on the table between them.

“What’s that?” he asked, tense.

“That is the ring I will put on _your_ wife’s finger.” Nancy picked it up, wanting the stone to hit the light.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, voice low. Nancy didn’t flinch as she stared at the jewel. “Who put you up to this?”

Nancy put the ring back into her purse. “Admit to me that you’re afraid, and I’ll give you a head start to keep her. You’re going to lose, but I’ll humor you.”

“Now you listen here,” he said, moving closer to her. “I don’t know what you think about Hillary, but—”

“I know her,” Nancy said, her heart skipping a little. She and Hillary had limited contact through the years, seeing each other at events, working towards Democratic causes from a distance. But Nancy knew, deep down, that Hillary was like her. It was a secret, of course, but clear as day in her eyes. “By the look on your face, Mr. President, you know I do.”

Bill stood, towering over the tiny woman. “I appreciate your words on the House floor, Representative Pelosi,” he said, voice measured. “But if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, my appreciation will dissolve quickly.”

Fearless, Nancy grinned and stood. “It’s always nice to know my opponent is afraid,” she said, voice even more measured. “Let your demise begin,” she whispered before grabbing her purse and heading out the door.

Bill stood in the Oval atop the seal, angry and afraid. He hated that Nancy saw his fear, but he soothed himself with the belief that Hillary would never leave him. “Fucking bullshit,” he whispered to himself, walking back to his desk. He loosened his tie again, but from stress instead of pride.


	3. Chapter 3

_Love placed her left hand to Nancy’s chest and her right hand to Hillary’s. She massaged their hearts with her thumbs, keeping the flower and the rain in motion._

“He hadn’t learned,” Nancy said, holding her phone with both hands. “And I wanted to remind him of what I said, Steady.”

_Spring 1999_

A few weeks after their meeting, Nancy sent buckets of flowers to Hillary’s East Wing office, each card signed “An Admirer” written in computerized cursive. When Bill saw the arrangements, he had no doubt who had sent them.

***

“That was you?” Hillary asked, the mystery finally solved.

Nancy closed her eyes, choosing not to answer.

Understanding the silence, Hillary closed hers too.

***

Bill’s certainty only grew when he saw Nancy in the East Wing later that day, drinking tea with Hillary.

“Mr. President,” Nancy said, standing at his arrival. “How nice to see you.”

Bill trained his eye on her before saying, “Hillary, can I speak with you privately?”

“What is it?”

“I…I need to speak with you,” he whispered.

“I’m having tea with Nancy, Bill.”

“I can see that,” he whispered, feeling himself losing in real time. “I have something I need to share with you.”

“By all means,” Nancy said, setting her cup down and grabbing her coat. “Please, don’t let me be a hindrance.”

“Bill,” Hillary said, annoyed. He was being rude. He didn’t say hello. She didn’t care what he wanted to tell her, because she didn’t want to speak to him in general.

He knew she was angry with him, and he saw his tenure on the couch extending before his eyes.

“Nancy, please stay,” Hillary implored, walking towards the woman. “Bill and I can talk later.”

“Are…are you sure?” Nancy asked, glancing at the red-faced president, a small smile on her lips.

“I’m sure,” Hillary said, glaring at Bill.

He left the room, realizing he had to fight back.

So he decided one sleepless night that he would call Nancy’s husband Paul. He knew the real story sounded contrived, so he figured he’d trigger the man’s sense of paranoia. Any husband would want to know about his wife’s threats, he believed. Paul wouldn’t take kindly to Nancy’s ominous challenge.

“What’re you trying to say, Mr. President?” Paul asked, confused on the other end. Was Bill saying Nancy was going against him on policy? The call made Paul think that Bill was ungrateful after she went to bat for him on the House floor.

“What I’m saying is,” Bill said, eyes squeezed shut, the phone to his ear. “Nothing. I’m sorry I called.” He hung up when he realized that Paul was a civilian in the political sense. Wheeling and dealing were things he, Hillary, and Nancy understood. They played that game daily, and they were the MVPs of the sport. Paul was too innocent, Bill realized. Too human to survive destruction.

***

“And I confronted him about it,” Nancy said.

***

“Paul told me you called,” Nancy whispered to Bill as she left the Appropriations Committee meeting with the president a few days later. “It’s good to know you’re taking my challenge seriously.”

Bill held her hand in his, not letting her follow the others out. “You’ll never have her,” he grunted. “Hillary can see right through your shit.”

“Is _that_ why we’re having lunch in the East Wing this afternoon?”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” He moved in closer. “Or do you want everyone in this town to know you’re a pussy licker?” He had never hit a woman in his life, but Nancy made that streak feel fragile.

Nancy smiled and looked down, her hand still solidly in his. “Call my husband again, and I will end you.” Still smiling, she looked back up at him. “You were foolish to ignore my initial threat. Like I do on the floor, I’m playing the long-game.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Your worst nightmare,” she whispered as two Marine guards entered the Oval, oblivious to the conversation. “Have a great day, Mr. President,” Nancy said, moving her hand from his and walking out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

_Love cradled the women in her hands, allowing them to hear what was underneath the words._

Still silent, Hillary took a breath.

“Are you still there?” Nancy asked. She could feel the distance between them, and it scared her.

“I’m here,” Hillary whispered, her mind in a whirlwind. She felt like she was First Lady all over again, remembering the White House, its grandeur, its harshness. So much suddenly made sense. “That explains…”

“Explains what, Steady?”

_Fall 1999_

As the months passed, Bill had reached his limit. Hillary had spent weeks on the campaign trail, and the few times she was in DC, she filled her schedule with anything but him. From time to time, he’d snoop through her official calendar. He figured Nancy would be in it, but he couldn’t decipher what codeword would hide her in the pages. His paranoia grew to a fever pitch until one rare night when they both were staring at the ceiling in bed. He turned towards her and asked, “Are you happy, Hillary?”

She looked at him, blue eyes staring at his face. “What?”

“Tell me,” he implored, needing something to hold onto. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but I need to know if I can still make you happy. Nothing matters if I can’t.”

On one level, she couldn’t believe his audacity. Happy? After what he’d put her through? There was no doubt that she loved him, but happiness was its own beast. Would anyone be happy after continued, public betrayals? On the other hand, she had a history of trusting him and wanting him and being foolish enough to fall for his charm time and time again. The thought made her sick. “I’m campaigning in Upstate New York for the next month,” she said, happy to change the subject. “I know I can win there. Harold and I went through the whole map months ago.”

Bill closed his eyes, still losing to Nancy. “Do you want me to campaign for you?”

Hillary got under the covers and turned away from him. “I can handle it,” she said, closing her eyes.

***

“He seemed broken,” Hillary said.

Nancy felt remorseful, but only to an extent. She remembered his sullenness and how happy it made her feel. But with age came maturity and a willingness to admit wrongs. “I kept it going,” she said.

_November 1999_

Bill figured the only way he could put a stop to the madness was to ask Nancy to relent directly. He scheduled a meeting with her in the Oval.

“Mr. President,” she said, cheery as she greeted him.

“Representative Pelosi,” he stated, waiting for Betty to leave. When she did, he said, “Let’s end this.”

Nancy sat and crossed her legs. “No.”

Bill sat too, shaken by the answer. He wanted to know what she wanted, so he asked her.

“Mr. President, I thought I was clear in February. I want Hillary.”

“She’s _my_ wife.”

“Precisely,” Nancy said. “You’ve done a terrible job as her spouse, so I’m stepping in to take over. Did we not go through this?”

“And you think I’m just gonna let that happen? What the fuck do you think I am?”

Nancy set her purse next to her feet. “A coward.”

Bill was stunned. Absolutely blown away. “You’re a married woman.”

“And you’ve followed my instruction to leave my husband out of this. You care about yourself more than I thought.”

“And just how would you have ended me, Nancy? Hmm?” he asked, agitated. “You’re saying you’re gonna take my wife away, so what’s next? My daughter? My presidency is almost over, and you’re too by the book to destroy my health. What’s your fucking plan?”

Looking solemn, Nancy clasped her hands together. “Have you ever heard the story of Proud Amos?”

Bill sat back, tongue grazing his teeth.

“I figured you hadn’t,” she said, continuing. “Proud Amos was convinced that he knew how to get across the poison ocean. Others studied the maps and consulted the elders, but he didn’t do either. Many had died trying. Everyone told him that he wouldn’t make it, but he just knew nothing could stop him from getting across that ocean.” Nancy paused, looking down. “Do you know what happened to Proud Amos when he finally took his trip?”

Bill stuck his lips out, refusing to respond.

“He was bit by a viper as soon as he left his house. He died on his doorstep.”

Bill sat with his elbows on his knees. “What does that have to do with—?”

“The poison ocean didn’t kill him. The snake he didn’t see coming did.” Nancy stood, wanting the story to permeate his subconscious. “I have to get back to the floor.”

“Nancy?”

She turned around and looked at the desperate man. He seemed like a shell of his former self, not realizing the snake of his own mind. When he didn’t answer, she grabbed her purse and left the office, satisfied with his response.


	5. Chapter 5

_Love brought her hands together, allowing the flower and the rain to rest._

“I mean it when I say I love you,” Nancy said, tears streaming down her face. “I’ve always loved you, even from afar.”

A mess on the floor, Hillary wiped her eyes, the story overwhelming, the secrets overwhelming, her feelings for Nancy so overwhelming that it pressed her to the floor like gravity, the weight grand yet comforting. Being with Nancy wasn’t the love she’d chosen, but it was certainly the love she was gifted. She was thankful for it every day. “I’m sorry, Petunia,” she whispered. “It’s been a rough few months.”

“I know, my darling.”

“We had plans,” she whispered, coughing a bit. “You were going to be my first lady.”

Nancy bowed her head, remembering the late night conversations when they’d imagine, no matter how unrealistic, what life would be like for them in the White House. Nancy was more than happy to pick out the china, and Hillary couldn’t wait to cuddle with her in the solarium.

“I wanted to see you in your dress so badly.”

Nancy smiled, the fantasy of dancing with the president filling her mind. “A rich blue, off-the-shoulder taffeta,” she said. “Silver heels. It would’ve looked perfect with your tailored pantsuit.”

“I guess I would’ve led,” Hillary chuckled.

“As long as you didn’t step on my toes.”

“I would’ve been extra careful, honey.”

They stayed on the line, silent, small. “You were never a game to me, Steady.”

“I know, Petunia.”

“The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you.” She took a breath, calming in her office. “I don’t believe in self-harm.”

Hillary rested her hand to her chest, Nancy’s heart being her own.

“I do regret one thing,” Nancy said.

“You do?”

Nancy nodded. “I wish I would’ve asked you out all those years ago.”

Hillary grinned, flattered. “You would’ve scared me off then, Nancy.”

“Oh?”

“I couldn’t bear anyone knowing that side of me. I probably would’ve never spoken to you again.”

“But you loved those flowers,” Nancy interjected. “Buckets and buckets of petunias.”

“Gosh…”

“A little piece of me in each bloom.”

“You’re so silly,” Hillary said, grinning as Bill walked past her study. He saw his previously upset wife smiling while talking to her own. Nearly twenty years later, he was still losing to Nancy.

_Love created the rain and the flower. She joined them together in matrimony that could never be sundered. _


End file.
